


Don't speak to me or my android son ever again

by SylverFletcher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Minor Injuries, Protective Parent Hank Anderson, Reed gets it, Revenge, Sumo is worried, based on a (possibly) true story, denial of involvement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 06:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylverFletcher/pseuds/SylverFletcher
Summary: Connor gets into an altercation with Reed involving some rude words about his favorite person and a window, and Hank stumbles in on Connor trying to patch himself up later. Some advice, swears, and a very confusing mood shift later, Connor gets to witness what Hank does when someone hurts his son.





	Don't speak to me or my android son ever again

**Author's Note:**

> It was my friend's birthday and I told her I'd write a fic for her. She asked for protective dad Hank and injured or sick Connor, so this is what we ended up with!

The clock on the wall ticking, Sumo’s worried whines at his feet and Connor’s own pained breathing were the only sounds to fill the small kitchen. As more blue blood dripped in glistening pools onto the counter and floor, the android could only think yet again how glad he was Hank was working late. Another shard of glass torn from his synthetic skin, another pained wince, and another thought of appreciation to the universe for keeping the lieutenant away from the bloody scene currently in his kitchen.

His vision blurred, distorting into two before merging back again. It was still strange, just as it had been from the start, to feel  _ pain _ . Before, it had simply been another part of existence, something his programming didn’t bother to account for, something not meant for a non living machine. But with the deviancy came the pain, came the change from saying  _ damaged _ to thinking  _ hurt _ . After all, it seemed, pain was a feeling, and he knew better than anyone now that machines did not feel.

Another wince, another bitten back noise of agony, and another shard joining the others beside him. Feeling real, feeling human, was something he would never take for granted. But even still, even Connor had to admit that unnecessary pain was the worst, especially as his head spun. Was this normal? He didn’t think it’d been that bad, but his body really was reacting as if he was dying. Sumo whined louder.

“Shh, Sumo, it’s…” The android mumbled, trailing off as his voice slurred. The dog whimpering at his feet doubled as his head lurched forward, only barely managing to keep himself from tumbling into the floor. Connor tried to sit upright, tried to grip the tweezers in his hand to pull out another piece of glass, only for them to slip right out of his grasp and skitter across the floor. When had his hand gotten so coated in blood? Somewhere in the corner of his display, something was flashing, begging him to look at it. What did it say? He couldn’t tell, the words didn’t make sense.

The door lock jiggled, the hinges groaned. “Sorry I’m late, Connor, I-- Connor! What the fuck happened to you?” His voice sounded far away and muffled, though it became clearer when he suddenly appeared in Connor’s swaying line of sight.

“I, I…” Connor hadn’t wanted Hank to see this, hadn’t wanted him to know it’d happened at all.

“Okay, take it easy.” Hank soothed, pushing the android to lean back against the fridge beside him. There was some shuffling, some banging of cupboard doors, and suddenly there was something plastic and squishy being shoved into his hands. “Here, drink the weird blue shit and tell me what happened.”

Well, that explained it. Connor knew better than to argue and did as told without a word, feeling some of his coherency begin to return slowly. The edges of his vision began to clear up, along with the warning message at the corner. “Oh. Low thirium.” He probably should have been able to guess that on his own without reading it, in all honesty.

“What was that?” Hank asked from right beside him, where he was now continuing the cleaning work Connor had been trying to do. He made quick work of pulling what shards were left out of the android’s torn skin, moving on to android grade bandages before Connor was even fully caught up with reality. “Stop mumbling and just tell me how this happened.”

“It was nothing, lieutenant.” Connor evaded, turning to look away at the floor. It was splattered in blood, and he felt a pang in his chest. Not only did Hank now know about it, he had to help.

But the older human only gave an annoyed huff and moved back into Connor’s line of sight, forcing him to look at him. “It was someone else, wasn’t it? Someone hurt you on purpose.” He asked, voice both gentle and firm at the same time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a distant thought that Hank must’ve been an amazing parent.

“It was my fault.” Connor finally admitted, sighing. Hank glared at him.

“Like fuck it is. Just tell me what happened and I’ll decide who’s at fault.”

“It was,” The android raised a hand, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “It was at the station, earlier. Reed was--”

Hank cut in with a swear. “I fuckin’ knew it, when I find that asshole I’m gonna string him up by his--”

“No, Hank! I started it.” That feeling in his chest again, and now his ears felt warm. He’s had emotions long enough now to recognize he’s feeling guilt and shame, and ducks his head down to look at the floor between Hank’s feet. “I shouldn’t have reacted.”

But Hank wasn’t budging, only continuing to give him an unimpressed stare, patience seemingly dwindling. “Reacted to what, Connor?”

Crossing his arms like a child, Connor glared at the floor. “He insulted you.”

He almost expected Hank to ask what was said, what insult Reed came up with. But instead, the lieutenant’s tone turned ever so slightly amused. “And what did you do, Connor?”

Connor said nothing.

_ “Connor.” _

“I didn’t say anything.”

Though the android couldn’t see it, Hank was starting to put the pieces together, and only barely held back a smirk. “No, Connor, I asked what you  _ did. _ ”

There was a pause.

“...I punched him.”

And just like that, Hank barked out a laugh, startling the android into looking at him with wide eyes. “Serves the asshole right.” He chuckled, wetting a cloth in the sink. Connor could only stare, blinking, as Hank wrung it out and came over to clean the rest of the blood off him.

“Wait, you’re not… mad?”

“Connor you could shoot that bastard and I’d celebrate.” He explained with a half smile, though clearly still unhappy with the state Connor was in. “He started it, he wanted to make you angry, that part isn’t on you. Yeah, maybe it’s best not to react with violence, but I’d do the same thing. It’s his own fault for goading you on. Piss someone off, get punched, it’s how it works.”

Going back to staring at the floor, now, Connor considered his words. He still felt responsible, but the older man did have a point, and it was reassuring to know Hank didn’t blame him. Relaxing and starting to feel better, the android let his face be tugged this way and that without complaint for Hank to scrub at the stubborn blood splattered on his skin.

“Nah, I’d say the only one really out of line here…” Hank continued, mumbling mostly to himself. “...Is the asshole who reacted to a punch with a, what is this, a glass cup?”

“A window.” Connor corrected. Hank slowed to a stop.

“... A window. He reacted to you punching him… after he purposely pissed you off… by  _ throwing you out a window. _ ”

“Yes.”

There was a long, long pause, in which Hank did nothing but stare at Connor’s bandaged wounds. His expression unreadable and his posture entirely unmoving, if he’d been an android, Connor would have thought he had frozen and stopped functioning. As it was, Connor was starting to suspect maybe he had anyway, despite being human.

“Welp!” Hank suddenly threw his hands in the air, after several minutes of silence, and plastered a too-big smile across his face. “It’s all dealt with now, long day, I’m beat. Time for bed!”

Startled, Connor stared at him. “B-but…” This didn’t seem right. Hank hadn’t even had dinner yet, they usually watched tv before bed, and what was with this reaction?

“Nope! Bedtime young man!” Hank pulled him to his feet and began ushering Connor toward his room. “I’m old and I wanna go to bed so get out of my hair, I’ll see you in the morning  _ good night!” _

And just like that, Connor hadn’t moved a single synthetic muscle willingly and yet now he was standing alone in the center of his own room. As the door slammed firmly behind him, Connor could only blankly stare at the wall and blink, processing what just happened. “Bedtime..? But I don’t sleep…”

 

* * *

 

 

After only a day, everything seemed to have returned to normal. Connor was still beyond confused about the odd behavior from Hank the last night, but in the morning it was as if nothing had happened at all, as Hank invited Connor to join him on the couch while he ate breakfast.

No, wait, scratch that. Connor  _ stared _ at Hank, studying his face, trying to identify exactly what was different. There was something off, something he couldn’t quite place. “What’re ya starin’ at?” Hank asked when he finally noticed the blatant scrutinizing, and his voice was lacking any and all of its usual ‘Hank hates mornings’ gruff attitude. That was when the pieces fell together, and Connor blinked. Hank was happy this morning, very happy. That… wasn’t normal.

“You’re happy.” He pointed out, deadpan.

“What, is that a crime?” Hank asked around his cereal. “I’m just having a good morning. Hey, turn the news on, I’m bored.”

Still perplexed, and with a growing sense of concern, Connor slowly turned to the tv and grabbed the remote from beside him. It came on with a buzz to some movie, and almost as if he was on autopilot, the android flipped through the channels with one eye on the man next to him. But there was nothing but the crunching of cereal to notice, nothing but the bright glow of a man having a good morning.

That must be it. Humans are weird, sometimes they change overnight. And it wasn’t a bad thing for Hank to be happy, was it? No, of course not. It was a great thing, and Connor slowly started to relax.

“Ohh, that one! Go back a channel.” Hank asked, sounding excited. Was there a game on? Maybe a movie he liked, though Connor thought the last channel had been the news… All the same, he didn’t question it, and pressed the button to go back.

“... In front of the news station this morning, our own employees coming to work discovered the man taped to the stop sign, hanging upside down and completely naked.” The woman on the tv said, and in the background behind her could be seen what was left of a mass of torn tape wrapped around the street sign. “The man is recovering with first responders nearby, who only mentioned he must have been there for awhile, or that it must have been  _ really _ cold.”

The camera panned left, turning to show the figures in bright clothing cuddled around the back of an ambulance. Once they moved, the rescued person could be seen sitting and wrapped in a blanket, and Connor’s jaw dropped at the same time as Hank guffawed laughter.

“Is that Reed?!” Connor almost yelled, staring at the screen. Beside him, Hank was  _ dying _ , cackling and wheezing like this was the funniest thing he’s ever seen. Connor could only turn and stare, slack jawed, unable to process words to ask.

Once he’d caught himself some, Hank noticed the stare, and turned to him with a grin. “Oh wow, look at that Connor, see they say karma’s a bitch but would you look at that! There’s a lesson to be learned here, son, don’t ever act like Reed--”

“Did… did…” Connor blanked, staring.

“Did what? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Connor.” Hank waved off, going back to his cereal with the widest grin in all of Detroit. When Connor only continued staring, he added, “Hey don’t look at me like that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Well… that explained a lot.

“... Thanks, Hank.” Connor said, finally, unable to resist letting a soft smile cross his face too.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about. Not. A. Clue. Must’ve totally been someone else he pissed off.” Hank insisted, winking.

**Author's Note:**

> FUN FACT: In my little bitty town of a population of 500, there's a story I was told once about a man I knew. They say he went out drinking with his friends one night, got blackout drunk, and they decided to haze him. He woke up the next morning being tapped by the sheriff's boot, who asked, "What happened to ya, son?" because the man's friends had duct taped him to a stop sign, upside down, and naked.  
> Whether the story is true or an urban legend, I can't say. But it was my inspiration for Hank's punishment for Reed lmao.


End file.
